Jihadi Janes

Aradhika  Sharma

My young niece from USA was visiting India for the first time. The initial part of the drive from the airport was spent in excited chatter and enquiries about the family, after which she glanced out of the window and got absorbed in the sounds and sights of the road. In the manner of first-time firangis in India, she went in a state of bemused, wide-eyed shock.

“Hey maasi, look there are wild beasts on the road! I’d heard that India is infested with wild animals, but never thought I’d see one so quickly!”

“Wild beasts? Where?” Instinctively, I pressed the accelerator.

“There!” As instinctively, she put her phone on camera mode and aligned her face with the ‘wild beasts’ in the background for an Indian selfie with a wild animal.

I peered beyond her to check for an elephant or a perhaps a peacock or neelgai but could see nothing except a few cows, weaving their way peacefully amidst the speeding highway traffic, sweetly oblivious that they were death hazard to unsuspecting motorists. 

“Where? I don’t see anything,” I said.

“Those bovid mammals right there. Look how savagely they’re challenging the trucks. Totally badass bovines! And look one’s pooping! Ewwww! Right on the road! Did you see that maasi? Wow!”

I considered enlightening her about the unique relationship that cows and dogs and urchin children had with the Indian roads, but got daunted by the enormous amount of explanation involved. I simply smiled and said that such sights were common here.

We entered the city and while I concentrated on negotiating traffic at the roundabouts, my niece briskly uploaded her latest selfie on Instagram. That done, she looked up and let out a sharp scream.

“What’s that maasi?” She dug her painted nails into my legs in panic.”

“Ouch! What now?” 

“You’ve got women terrorists roaming the streets!” 

“What are you even talking about?” I was getting rather weary of warding off the overbearing bus drivers hell bent on crushing my car in addition to dealing with her talons threatening to decapacitate my limb.

“Those women with their heads covered. Their faces are camouflaged too. All you can see are the slits of their eyes. They’re jihadi terrorists, aren’t they?” 

“Oh no! They’re only helmetless drivers!” I laughed.

“Helmetless! On these roads with this killer traffic? Are they suicidal?”

“I don’t think so!” I responded.

“Isn’t there a legislation against driving without proper safety gear?”

“I believe there is,” I responded.

“That’s what I mean! They’re flouting the law. They’re ready to destroy themselves. Just like Jihadi Janes!”

“Aren’t you overdoing this a bit, dear?” 

“Seriously maasi! How would anyone know there aren’t terrorists hidden behind the veils?” she persisted. “Anyone could simply cover their faces and heads and pretend to be a woman, right? Pretty easy to escape security that way!” she said triumphantly while trying to get selfies with a ‘Jihadi Jane’.

She did have a point. So much for the nakas for August 15.